


if right is leaving, I'd rather be wrong

by donutcats



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, sorry about that I just had my own mc in mind while writing, the mc wasn't gendered really until I wrote a julian pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 10:36:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12529412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donutcats/pseuds/donutcats
Summary: "I don't want to leave.""I know. But you'll be fine, Julian. I promise.""What will I do without you?""You'll do what I told you." You straighten his collar, both of you ignoring the way your hands shake. "You will take your sister away from here. Give the both of you a life. Go to that little town and most importantly, be free."





	if right is leaving, I'd rather be wrong

**Author's Note:**

> this started out as 'I want angst!', but then I got an idea for the last half and it wouldn't leave me alone. so here we are. I actually have a whole au in my head about the events after the end of this. so I might have to make this into a series. we'll see.

One minute, you’re dancing with Asra, his colorful outfit a contrast to your softer colors. You’re both smiling, laughing at something Asra said about one of the more ridiculously dressed at the Masquerade. The next minute, you hear a shout, followed by a scuffle off on the edges of the room. You feel Asra’s hand on your side as you try to peer around guests, and when your eyes lock onto the commotion, you feel the bottom of your stomach drop. 

They're taking Julian away, you didn’t even know he was here but the guards are hauling him away, the decorative plague mask he swiped from the backstage of the play falling to the ground. A guard tramples it, and something cracks in your chest at the sight.    
  
Without thinking, you push past the crowd, angling away from Julian, elbowing past a guard that's not quick enough, and then you're tripping on your feet, landing with a lack of grace in front of the Countess. "Wait! just- wait, please."    
  
Nadia holds up a hand, causing the guards to still, and one artfully crafted brow raises as well.   
  
"It wasn't Julian, he didn't do anything," you choke out, words getting tangled together with unshed tears, your fingers curling around the emerald sitting against your sternum under your clothing. "I did it, Nadia, please. It was me. Listen to me. Please,  _ please _ ."   
  
"No-" Julian starts, warning and worry in his voice, and Nadia seems to agree with his protest.   
  
"I would advise you to think about what you're saying." Her own voice is low, a warning in it's own right.    
  
But you stand taller, squaring your shoulders, wiping a stray tear with the back of your hand. Your legs are unsteady underneath you, and you refuse to look towards Julian. "I confess, in the presence of the Countess and her Court, that I killed Count Lucio in cold blood. I was the hand that lit the flame that fateful night, three years ago.  _ I am your murderer _ ."    
  
Over the sound of the gathered crowd shattering and gossiping and gasping, you hear Julian let out a strangled noise, and underneath that, you feel more than hear Asra’s own shocked gasp. You hadn’t even realized he followed you. He says your name in the same warning as everyone else, but you refuse to be cowed. 

Without a shadow of a doubt, you know Julian did not kill Lucio. You refuse to see him hang for a crime he didn't commit.   
  
_ "Don't you deserve to be happy?" _ You hear Asra's voice, a memory, and you know he would not approve of this line of thought. But the problem is, you can't prove yourself as innocent as Julian. 

There’s a brief pause as Nadia stares at you, as the crowd stares at you, where you’re not sure what’s going to happen next. Here you stand, in a beautiful dress you picked especially for this night, shaking and crying and not knowing what’s next. Then, Julian is breaking free from the guards hold, and you realize that they had been shocked at the turn of events, their hold loosening on him. By the time they realize he's elbowed himself away, he's already at your side, grabbing at your shoulders, cupping your face, mumbling  _ no no no _ over and over. 

"Why are you doing this? Nadia," he turns towards her, "Nadia, you can’t do this. We know I'm at fault here."   
  
Nadia looks upset, with the way she presses her mouth into a tight line. "She confessed, Dr. Devorak." with a sigh, Nadia looks away from the two of you tangled together. "There is nothing more I can do."   
  
" _ No. _ "    
  
"Julian," you get his attention, running a hand through his hair, coming to rest at the back of his neck. "I'm doing this for you. You're innocent, and I can prove."   
  
"What about you? Do you ever think about yourself?"   
  
Without answering, you stretch up to touch your forehead against his, smiling at how he bows his body to meet you half way without thinking much of it. "Take your sister away from here, go back home, Julian. Be free."  Then, there are other hands on your arms, hands that feel reluctant to do their job, but then the guards are leading you away, and you can hear Julian pleading with Nadia as the doors shut behind you.

 

===

 

Asra comes to you, that same night, still dressed in his Masquerade clothing. The hood is pooled around his shoulders, and this is possibly the most upset you’ve ever seen him. 

He settles himself against the bars, a hip and shoulder pressing themselves into your cell. “What were you thinking?” Asra asks, a mixture of curiosity and disappointment you’ve never heard before. 

Fiddling with the hem of your sleeve, you mirror his pose, shoulders pressed together. “He’s innocent, Asra. I know it in my bones. The proof isn’t cut and dry, but it’s enough. Enough to give doubt, enough for him to leave.”

“And you aren’t? Innocent, that is.” 

Sighing, you trace a crack in the wall with your eyes, before turning fully to face Asra. “Look me in the eyes and tell me I am. Tell me I had nothing to do with it, Asra. If you can, I’ll believe you.”

Instead of answering, Asra pushes some hair out his his eyes, gaze skipping across the same crack you were just looking at. "You didn't even hesitate.”

“Asra, don’t change the subject.” 

He continues on, as if you didn’t say anything, body turning so you’re face to face, fingers curling around one of the bars. “Didn't even think. You put yourself in harms way so he wouldn't have to. I wonder, would you do the same for me."   
  
"Don't make me choose, Asra." It’s more of a plea than a warning.    
  
"Because I already know the answer?" He looks you in the eyes, doesn’t flinch away even as you narrow your gaze.    
  
"Is this your way of being petty? Interrogating me, while I’m behind bars?"   
  
"No no, that wasn't- that's not my intention. I just." Asra sighs, leaning his head against the bars. His shoulders sag, and you can feel everything about him soften. The edge of whatever scrap of anger he was trying to harbor melts away. You chew on the inside of your mouth for a split second before leaning in as well, feeling the edge of his chin along the side of your cheek. "I wanted you to be happy, but I wish it would have been a different outcome.”

 

===

 

The next night, Julian sneaks his way down to see you. You know he wouldn’t have gone to Nadia, like Asra did. He would have never begged or convinced anyone to visit you. And you admire him a bit for that. 

You're reunion consists of pressing yourselves against the bars, trying to touch more of each other. Trying to meld through the cell to sink into each other. Your foreheads rest together, one point of contact between two cool strips of metal. 

You remember how he tried to break things off, before they even really started. How prepared you were to be done with him and his drama. But the moment you saw him again, the feeling in your chest erupted again. The feeling of two puzzle pieces fitting together, of long lost friends seeing each other again. Of belonging to someone with no real understanding of why.    
  
It's silent for a moment, as you both breath each other in, soak in the others presence. Make up for the time you both lost for being so terribly stubborn. Him with never wanting to hurt you, and you wanting him to know what it felt like to want. Then, like a crack, you break the quiet, opening your eyes to look at him.   
  
"Julian?" He hums his acknowledgement. "Where are you going, after this?"   
  
"What?" His eye snaps open, searching your face.   
  
"When this is all said and done, where are you headed off to?"   
  
"I don't think this is the time to harbor fantasies of life _ after _ this."   
  
"Nonsense. This is the perfect time. C'mon." You smile, reaching out and curling your fingers into the nape of his neck.    
  
Julian sighs, leaning into the touch. "Well if you're so insistent." A smile curls at his mouth at your quiet chirp of _ I am _ . "There's this little town, near Nevivon."   
  
"Tell me about it, Jules. Please."   
  
He spends the next two hours talking about this small little town that's close to the coast, where he plans to take his sister and her cat. It gets cold in the winters, of course, but the summers are so colorful and beautiful that it's all worth it. It's known for a warm cider drink that's mixed with chocolate and it sounds like it would never work, but  _ gods _ is it amazing.   
  
Julian talks more, spins a beautiful description that’s filled with so many details, and by the time he's done, your eyes are dropping closed, and his voice has gotten husky. You can visualize this town in your mind's eye, so clearly, and it makes you smile.

"You should go," you say, softly, gently pushing at him. "Before the guards catch you down here. You just got free, I don't want to see you in here too for trespassing." You try to say it with a smile, but his entire face drops at the words.   
  
"I don't... want to leave."   
  
"I know. But you'll be fine, Julian. I promise."   
  
"What will I do without you?"   
  
"You'll do what I told you." You straighten his collar, both of you ignoring the way your hands shake. "You will take your sister away from here. Give the both of you a life. Go to that little town and most importantly, be free."   
  
You can see the shine in his eye, and you know he's not going to cry in front of you. Leaning forward, pulling him towards you, you press your lips to the corner of his mouth through the bars.    
  
"Listen to me, Julian. I will see you again. Do not doubt that."    
  
He finally leaves after more prodding, his black coat billowing as he casts one last look behind him.

 

=/=/=

 

_ Julian _

 

It takes him some time, but finally he makes his way to the town near Nevivon that he spent a whole night talking about. 

Portia wanted to travel, she wanted to take that cat of hers and see the world. So that's what they did. They explored, they experienced different locations. Julian picked up bits and bobs of other languages along the way. Only the most important words of course, like curses and asking where the pub is. 

Julian lost the giant leather coat and picked up a much more practical leather jacket. Portia teases him, tells him he’ll never change. He thinks he has, whether she sees it or not.    
  
Somewhere along the journey, he also lost Portia to a dashing lady who owns her own smithy. Julian made his sister swear to invite him to the wedding, whenever it happened, because he knew it was inevitable.   
  
After that, he took some time for himself, stopping off at a few more places, and even dropping by some of his old haunts in Nevivon, before looking towards the coast. It took him a bit more time to get there than he would have liked, but he made it.    
  
Finally, a little over a year after the masquerade in Vesuvia, Julian finds himself in a small town close to the ocean that smells like honeysuckles and cider and feels like a warmth in your bones. The sides of the main street are filled with shops, and carts parked in random clusters in front of and between buildings. He stops a few times, lured in by the colorful displays and the loud owners.

When he manages to trundle his way to the local inn, the most well known one that he heard very good reviews from as he was picking up things along his way, he's informed that a room has already been rented under his name.    
  
It raises every single red flag in his mind, and the receptionist doesn’t even bat an eye as he turns back to a large book he’s reading. As if this wasn’t something that demanded attention. Realizing he wasn’t getting any help, Julian takes the steps two at a time, slipping the dagger out from his boot. Two flights up and four doors down, he places his hand on the knob that claims to be his room. Easing it open, he let’s the door swing slowly on it’s own, peering in as it does.    
  
It creaks slightly, as it opens fully, and Julian drops the dagger at the room before him.   
  
There are plants in every windowsill, lights dangling from the ceiling, and fabrics over the backs of the two chairs tucked into the corners. And there, standing on the table, skirts around her knees and tongue poking out from her teeth as she fixes a hanging plant next to the multiple lights above, is a woman he thought dead.    
  
At the sound of his dagger clunking against the hardwood, she turns, her confusion morphing into a blinding smile. "I thought you'd never show up."

 

\---

 

"How?" He asks, breathless, when she's finally in his arms. 

She wrinkles her nose, still smiling at him, and he can feel her bare feet stepping on his boots to give herself a bit more height. "Magic." Her fingers wiggle in the air, and then she's laughing, so open and joyous.   
  
He kisses her, because he can't help himself. Because he feels like it's all too real but not real enough and he needs this right now, he needs to know she's really in his arms.    
  
She’s still giggling as she kisses back, arms looping around his shoulders, and it feels like coming home.

 

\---

 

"Who knows you're alive?" Julian asks, casual and genuinely curious. He’s changed a bit, in the year they spent apart. It did him good, at least in Julian's opinion. He’s more grounded now, calmer. There’s still a self loathing there that will never be scrubbed away, but it’s buried underneath more facets of himself that he’s found.

"You," a pause, as she picks through a fruit cart located in the small market. "Nadia, of course. Asra."

"Ah."

"No one else. Asra had to know. I sent him a letter, explaining as much as I could. I just." She pulls her shawl closer, staring at an apple in her hand. "He needed to know."

Julian comes up behind her, arms wrapping around her middle, chin hooking over her shoulder as he bends. Smiling, he pays the owner for the apple she has in her grip, the sign of crescent nail marks clear in the skin. "I understand, love. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.


End file.
